


Just Say You Won't Let Go

by mylifeisloki



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Song fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9149326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mylifeisloki/pseuds/mylifeisloki
Summary: "I'm gonna love you 'til my lungs give out. I promise till death we part, like in our vows. So I wrote this song for you, now everybody knows that it's just you and me until we're grey and old. Just say you won't let go."Based on James Arthur's 'Just Say You Won't Let Go', this fic follows Steve and Natasha from the moment they meet all the way until the end. Life isn't easy, but spending it with the person you love the most makes things just a little bit easier.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. I just wanted to say that I feel like death has been extremely prevalent in the past few weeks. I lost my grandmother just before Christmas and as soon as I heard this song, I knew I had to put this down on paper as soon as possible. I know not everyone believes in heaven or an afterlife and I'm not sure I do either, but I like the sound of it. I like the idea that death is just a way to return to those we've loved who have gone before us.
> 
> Death only ends a life, it doesn't end love. 
> 
> In that vein, I want to dedicate this to my grandmother. She lived until one week shy of 85 years and I miss her all the time. She used to read a book a day and she always told me to keep writing, so... I like to think she'd approve. <3
> 
> I also want to thank @heyfreudiana for her love and support, and her encouragement to post this. Thank you so much for being there whenever I really need someone.

_When Steve thought back on his life, it was easy to say that the most wonderful years were spent in the company of one woman. He could never downplay the part of his first love, but it was his second love that changed everything for him. It was his second love who pulled him out of a hole he couldn’t begin to describe even now, years later. He owed her everything._

_Now, as he sat in an uncomfortable chair in a dismally plain room, he couldn’t help but think way back to when he was young, back to when he thought he knew how it felt to be old._

[New York City, a long time ago]

With two tours in Afghanistan, more loss than he had ever been ready for, an entire year flushed right down the toilet while he was in a coma at a hospital in downtown Brooklyn, and orders to see a therapist twice a week while also going back to school all under his belt, Steve was pretty sure he could handle a party. He obviously hadn’t gotten the chance to experience college right after high school. Now that he was swimming in a sea of kids at least five or six years younger than him, Steve felt like he had to tread carefully or wind up feeling even worse about his life than he already did.

He lived off campus, but he found out about a party being held one Friday night and made the somewhat ridiculous decision to attend. He’d probably feel totally out of place. These kids were just so fresh faced and youthful and everything, and Steve felt increasingly like he ought to be home by eight and ready for bed by the time the ten o’clock news came on.

Steve showed up dressed in jeans and a long sleeved blue shirt that hugged his biceps and kept him warm despite the fact that all he wore over it was a beaten up leather jacket he loved. He parked his bike outside and headed in with an open mind only to find out that for once life was definitely imitating art. The party looked like every frat party he’d ever seen in movies. There were about a hundred people crowded into one house built for maybe half that and the music was so loud that Steve was pretty sure the floor was vibrating. Literally everyone had a red cup in hand filled with whatever beer was cheapest, he was sure, and people were writhing up against each other all over the place. Steve felt _incredibly_ old.

Even in the dim lighting, he was able to find the nearest keg and pump himself a nice, cold beer. Steve relaxed very, very slowly- and that could easily be seen in the hard line of his shoulders and the way his back remained straight and narrow. Nevertheless, he did relax to some extent. But even with a couple of beers in him and the knowledge that literally no one around him recognized him or would remember him the next morning, he felt horrendously out of place.

It was that whole adapting to civilian life thing that his therapist kept warning him about. Steve usually called bullshit on pretty much whatever she told him, but considering he felt like he had no direction in life and less than a normal amount of enthusiasm for life in general… Maybe she was right. Maybe he really didn’t know who he was unless he was in the army. And maybe he was a little desperate for someone to give him a reason to keep going.

He found himself standing off to the side in the main room where a bunch of people had gathered to dance to the thumping music that practically filled the space around them.

Ultimately, he figured he’d stay for a drink or two before getting back to his empty little apartment to fall asleep in front of the television again. He was on his fourth (and final, damnit) beer when _she_ sidled up to him. She’d obviously been drinking. Steve could see her teetering just slightly and based on the way she practically fell into his chest, she’d been drinking for a while.

“ _Hey_ , handsome,” she slurred. “Aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes!”

Steve felt like she’d reached into his chest, grabbed hold of his heart, and squeezed. She looked like the girl no one would ever be good enough to actually get, like she was so far out of his league it might have been _funny_ if he asked her out. And yet somehow… Somehow, Steve just immediately took to her.

“Me? You sure you’ve got the right guy?”

She grinned and tossed back the rest of her drink, lazily plopping her cup down on a nearby table and taking his empty hand. Steve only had enough time to take a last gulp of his beer before setting his own cup down as well before she dragged him into the throng of people dancing. At first, he was probably way too awkward. He was stiff and unsure and even with his new friend draping her arms around his neck, he felt like he didn’t belong.

But she didn’t seem to care. She smiled and tossed her hair over her shoulder before sliding her hands right down his chest to his hips. “What’s your name, baby?”

Baby? “Steve,” he told her, still trying to figure out the right place to put his hands. “What’s yours?”

“Natasha,” she drawled, guiding his hips to the beat of the music until he’d (mostly) gotten the hang of it. Maybe it was just his own romantic nature, but he could have sworn he heard angels singing at the sound of her name. He adored her for just wordlessly guiding him without making it seem like a big deal. She made him feel like he wasn’t just fucking everything up, which was generally how he felt when he was with his therapist or trying to just function on his own in the world.

As the song changed, Natasha let her arms rest over his shoulders again and Steve immediately took hold of her hips because that was what felt the most natural. “That’s a pretty name,” he offered.

“Mmm… Gorgeous,” she answered, tipping her head to the side as she looked up at him.

Steve had to laugh and after that, it was like they’d known each other for ages. She was a dance major, only 20 years old, and absolutely enjoying her freedom right now. As the night went on, they both grabbed so many shots of tequila and so many beers that Steve was pretty sure he could see the throbbing of the music by the time Natasha pulled him upstairs.

He knew what could happen now. She was intent on choosing a bedroom and eventually shut the door behind them once they’d found an empty one. But the thing was that--

She was going to throw up. Steve frowned as Natasha went from suave and sexy and seductive to running into the bathroom with one hand clamped over her mouth. Steve reacted belatedly, but he dashed after her and knelt down just in time to pull her hair back and hold it out of the way. As Natasha emptied her stomach, Steve just kind of waited patiently for it to be over. It was awkward and weird and probably a little too intimate considering they’d only met a couple of hours ago, but he went with it.

When she was through, Natasha peeked over her shoulder at him and idly wiped her mouth so she could give him a lazy smile. “You wanna stay over?”

Steve couldn’t help it. He found himself laughing again just because she looked like she wasn’t even slightly hampered by the fact that she’d just thrown up. She wasn’t embarrassed and for some ungodly reason, he found that so refreshing that it sobered him right up. This was what life was supposed to be, right? Fun. Laughter. Maybe it was sad, but Steve felt like he needed a reminder like that in his life. Was that what this was? The kind of love-at-first-sight he’d sworn he’d never experience again?

Natasha giggled and tipped her head lazily to the side.

Steve felt like his heart might have just exploded. “I think you need to rest…”

She needed to sleep off the sheer number of drinks she’d had- and so did he. But Steve didn’t want to leave her. It was _ridiculous_ because she was a fucking stranger, but if he had to choose between proclaiming true love to her and leaving her right now… he wasn’t sure how he could pick the latter. She was like the physical embodiment of a breath of fresh air.

Obviously Steve held back the talk of pledging himself to her right then and there, but he did take a seat on the bathroom floor and he also allowed Natasha to crawl into his lap. Right there with his back against the bathtub and Natasha’s cheek resting against his chest, Steve felt more at peace than he had since the day he was finally accepted into the army.

When she fell asleep, he carried her to the bed and laid down beside her just like she wanted. Even when she vaguely opened her eyes to see what was happening, all he had to do was open his arms and she curled into him like it was second nature. Steve laid there for a long time without even closing his eyes. He hadn’t ever held anyone like this, not because he hadn’t wanted to, but because he’d never been given the chance. His dreams of holding Peggy were thwarted by their circumstances and so…

This was new. Giving in to base instinct and human nature was easy; Steve slowly lowered his head until his nose was buried right in her hair and he inhaled deeply, letting the subtle scent of her shampoo just wash over him. Sure, she kind of smelled like tequila with a little hint of puke, but that was alright. It was just alright. It was human and imperfect and he loved her-- It. He loved it.

_“Pop?” Steve looked up to find James coming to sit beside him. The kid really did have his mother’s eyes; all big and green and expressive in a way that made him seem a lot more vulnerable than he was. He took after his mother that way too. “You okay?”_

_Steve’s shoulders ached as he tried to square them off and look as strong as his son did now. He wasn’t the soldier he had been, all straight and narrow and standing tall. “I ever tell you how we found out you were on the way?”_

_James smiled a little bit and shook his head. “I don’t think so, Pop. Tell me now?”_

_Taking a deep breath, Steve reached out to let his hand rest over James’. “Well, your mother and I had been dating on and off for a couple of years now. By ‘on and off’ I mean that she didn’t want to put a label on it and so I only technically had a girlfriend for a little while before we found out she was pregnant…”_

After the party, things moved pretty quickly for the two of them. Natasha was brazen and intelligent, with a sharp wit that kept Steve on his toes literally all the time. His own somewhat pigheaded nature wasn’t even slightly dampened by the fact that she insisted on being more aloof and non-committal than anything else in the beginning of their relationship. She wanted time and Steve was unendingly patient because he just knew it would work out in the end. This was the right thing.

Natasha graduated college right on time. They’d been seeing each other since that night of the party no matter what Natasha wanted to call it and Steve was pretty sure he couldn’t possibly be happier. He loved her more than he could say- and more than he _did_ say because Natasha really loathed all that mushy nonsense. At least most of the time.

Occasionally, Steve would just snap a little and tell her he loved her in the most casual way he could manage it; writing it on the bathroom mirror while she showered, leaving a little note for her while he went out for his morning run, bringing her breakfast in bed on lazy Sundays because he was always up earlier. Things weren’t always so easy for them, though.

Steve confessed to his PTSD issues maybe a month into their relationship and Natasha had been so surprised by it that she sat him down and wanted to know everything so she could help. Steve cried at some point while he tried to explain that everything felt wrong and Natasha was kind enough to never, ever mention it again. She also never spoke when he woke from nightmares. She never told him to calm down or asked him to explain if he didn’t want to. She’d just hold his head against her chest and stroke her fingers through his hair as he cried or shook or tried to breathe. Sometimes she’d hum a soothing melody until his breathing returned to normal.

The first time it happened, Steve had been so sure that she would leave him. It was too much trouble to deal with a six-foot-one weakling who fucking dealt with night terrors like an infant. No one would want to deal with that. When he woke up to an empty bed the next morning, he just naturally assumed that it was over. She’d never come back. She’d never fucking come back.

Maybe it was sad that he was already so attached, but he found that being around her was so natural and felt so wonderful that letting go seemed impossibly hard. He was still sitting up and asking why he had to be so goddamn weak when he heard a noise and frowned. He actually frowned all the way into the kitchen, where Natasha was swearing under her breath at a pan full of what looked like severely undercooked scrambled eggs.

Right there in the doorway, he stood and stared at her for what felt like a very long time.

She’d stayed. Natasha had seen him at his very, very lowest and she’d made the decision to stay. That had to mean something. And for a second, all Steve wanted to do was walk over there and wrap her up in his arms, but he hesitated. Before he knew it, Natasha was turning around with the pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. She wore her hair up in a messy bun and she’d stolen his shirt; an old ARMY shirt that hung off her frame like a dress.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to be up yet.” Letting her shoulders fall in defeat, Natasha pouted a little and gave him a look. “I don’t suppose you’d take a blowjob instead…”

Steve grinned. “I mean. I’m not saying no, but. Maybe breakfast first.”

They cooked a new batch of eggs together and later on, Natasha made good on her offer of a blowjob- much to Steve’s amusement. All in all, Steve had an amazing shower that morning. But that was then.

By the time Steve graduated, they’d been together for almost three years and shared a little apartment in Brooklyn. Natasha had gotten a coveted spot on stage with the NYC Ballet and Steve quickly established himself as a freelance illustrator who mostly worked from home. Life was good. While he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a time when he didn’t get the occasional flashback, Steve’s PTSD was at a point where he could function normally on his own. They had enough money to live comfortably and they even managed to go on a few trips together; a memorable week spent in Paris, a cruise to the Bahamas, a long weekend spent skiing in Vermont.

The best things about Natasha were also the things that she never really attributed to herself. She stuck with him through therapy and panic attacks and flashbacks, she dealt with waking up alone more often than not because Steve was up with the sun and already out running. She also listened patiently when he told her about the loss of his best friend and she visited the graves of Bucky and his parents for Christmas so they could lay a wreath down for each of them. She was patient and kind and she never expected more than he could give--

(With the exception of exactly two nights in bed. But Steve made up for that in _spades_ by way of his mouth and his hands and a really good vibrator. He was a virgin when he’d met her, after all. Older and supposedly wiser, definitely in possession of more life experience, but one hundred percent virgin. And since they’d been sleeping together since about a week after that party where they’d first met, he’d had plenty of time to learn since then.)

He also admired her in that she was so very graceful. It took her ages to sit him down and explain all the reasons why she believed she’d never be able to have children and when she did, she honestly looked like a queen. There was obviously a part of Natasha that was scared (he knew her well enough by then), but she told him the facts and when he accepted her anyway, she acted like she’d known that would be the case all along. He loved her for that, because he knew she trusted him enough to put her heart on the line and come out of it smiling.

In any case, they were about five years into their relationship when Steve finally thought about actually asking Natasha to marry him. Neither of them were too preoccupied with the thought and so, it hadn’t actually been a priority for either of them. On the night in question, he ran around for ages making all the preparations for a romantic, home-cooked, candlelight dinner right in their apartment. He made a good steak and thick, creamy potatoes along with string beans and fresh biscuits and this amazing chocolate cake for dessert. He also decorated the table with rose petals and also let them lead Natasha right from the door to the table itself.

She knew from the moment she saw him all dressed up and waiting for her with a red rose in hand. But Natasha was good about it. She let him go through the motions and told him all about her day. She even had the decency to act surprised when he stumbled through another confession, dropped to his knee, and presented her with the best ring he could afford. He asked her to marry him and she said yes before he even got all the words out.

Their celebrations that night were spirited and then some. Steve could distinctly remember waking up with a kink in his neck and scratch marks on his shoulders as well. And that was without mentioning the state of their bed--

_“Pop, please,” James begged. “Please. Not that.”_

_Steve smirked a little bit despite himself and continued on._

Almost a month of telling people they were engaged followed… until Natasha managed to completely pass out on stage during a practice session. Steve raced to the hospital and sat at her side while the doctors ran tests to figure out what was wrong. They worried for what felt like ages because it could be _anything_ from low blood sugar to a fucking tumor and--

“Ms. Romanov?” The doctor came in and Steve straightened up in his chair. “We have your test results back…” He glanced at Steve. “We should speak in private.”

“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of him,” Natasha said quietly. “He’s my fiance.”

Steve smiled and took her hand knowing very well that she just loved introducing him that way, but his gaze turned right to the doctor again because they needed to get through this together. “Alright.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “We ran a full battery of blood tests and as you know, we did a few scans.” He took a deep breath. “Everything looks fine. You’re a perfectly healthy woman.”

Both Natasha and Steve let out a collective sigh of relief. As it turned out, that was probably a little premature. “A perfectly healthy, _pregnant_ woman.”

What? As they blinked in confusion, the doctor continued. “Congratulations,” he said with a smile. “I’ll leave you two alone for a moment while I draw up your discharge papers.”

He left and it was like the world had turned. Steve swallowed hard and slowly looked to Natasha, whose eyes were wider than he’d ever seen them. “We’re-- having a baby?”

Natasha let out a shocked breath and nodded slowly. “I guess we are.” She paused. “We’re having a baby.”

The words resonated a lot more coming from Natasha. Steve let out a laugh and smiled widely, getting up only to lean down and wrap Natasha up in his arms. “I love you so much,” he told her, and there was no use trying to downplay it this time.

“I love you too,” she answered, burying her face in his neck.

_“But that wasn’t all,” he continued, a fond smile playing on his lips. “We found out later on that there was something like a 1 in 1 million chance of your mother getting pregnant the traditional way. You were a goddamn miracle.”_

_James smiled and huffed out a laugh through his nose. “I’ve tried not to let it get to me, but…” He shrugged and they shared a soft laugh._

_Steve nodded along to himself. “She loved you so much. From the minute she found out, she was totally in love with you.”_

They got married in a small ceremony with a couple of friends serving as witnesses. Natasha wore a little white sundress that fit over her growing belly and Steve kissed her before the preacher could finish what he was saying. Instead of a reception, they went out for pizza because that was what Natasha was craving and instead of a honeymoon, they went to lamaze classes and picked out paint for the nursery.

Steve cried like a baby in the delivery room and that was before his son was placed into his arms, just because Natasha had decided in the moment she’d finally gotten to look down at the baby that he absolutely looked like a James. He was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen and the opportunity to watch him grow into a little person with his mother’s eyes and his father’s sarcasm was an experience unlike any other. Natasha retired from dancing and became a teacher instead, but it was Steve who stayed home with James most of the time.

Years passed.

Steve came home with a puppy for a Christmas gift when James was two and they named her ‘Molly’. A golden retriever mix, she grew fast and developed an indelible bond with James in the way that only a puppy could. They were like peas and carrots, inseparable and entirely happy just being with one another.

When James was a bright and robust three years old, he started attending preschool and Steve realized that in the three years since they’d had James… he had kind of let himself go. He was still big and broad and strong, but he’d lost a little bit of definition on his stomach and vowed to make up for that as soon as possible. He started going to the gym and running again, and that was also the year that they _coincidentally_ had enough sex to pull for another miracle. Natasha got pregnant again and the doctors were completely confounded as to how the fuck they’d managed it.

Nine months and an emergency C-section later, Natasha gave birth to a healthy baby girl and she instantly became Steve’s pride and joy. Sarah had her father wrapped around her finger from the very moment she opened her big, blue eyes. And it was just as much fun watching _her_ grow up as it had been watching James grow up.

_“She said she’s on her way,” James interrupted. “She should be here any minute now.”_

_Sarah had grown up to be a travel writer. She was in Thailand when she got the call to come home and right now, all they could do was wait. It felt like they spent a lot of time waiting these days. “It’ll be good to see her,” he said. “Despite the circumstances.”_

_When she did arrive, it was with a rush of blonde curls. James took control of the situation while Steve’s gaze fell on the man she’d brought with her. Sarah hadn’t gotten married, so this was very new. While brother and sister disappeared from sight, he pushed himself to his feet to interrogate the newbie._

_“Name.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Are you deaf? I said ‘name’. Now.”_

_“Adam,” he answered, frowning down at the younger man. “Sir.”_

_Steve lifted his chin a little to make up for the fact that he was shrinking in his old age. “And your intentions with my daughter are…?”_

_Adam shifted nervously and Steve smirked. Good. “I-I intend to marry her, sir. I love her.”_

_Pressing his lips together, Steve nodded slowly. “I’ll still kick your ass if you hurt her. Am I clear?”_

_He nodded right away and backed up. “Yes, sir. Understood.” Adam took a seat across the room and Steve hobbled back to his own seat now that his job was done._

_When Sarah came back into the room, she immediately fell into Adam’s willing arms and Steve had to smile, however sadly, at the sight before him. They loved each other, that much was clear. And while that kind of new love was exciting on its own, it was the next kind of love he looked forward to on her behalf._

Steve had always considered himself something of a romantic, but he had seen in so many movies and read in so many books the way a marriage would deteriorate after children and pets and so many years of being together. It was rare, he thought, for two people to find the kind of love that really lasted. And that was one more reason why he valued Natasha so much. She was always even more beautiful as time went on. She was an amazing mother, an amazing wife. He respected the hell out of her.

And sometimes, he still woke her up with breakfast in bed.

On their tenth wedding anniversary, he did just that. Steve got up extra early and fixed Natasha a big breakfast; pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries, bacon, the tea she loved, and a couple of brightly colored daisies as well. He carried it into their room on a tray and woke her up with a bright smile.

“Mm.. Pancakes?” Her first words made him smile and Steve set the tray down for her as she sat up to eat. “And _bacon_ ,” she groaned, plucking a piece off the tray immediately.

“Happy anniversary, babe,” he said warmly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I love you.”

Natasha smiled widely. “I love you too,” she answered. “And don’t think you’re not getting a very special night tonight. Or a very special morning. I’m off today, so once I get the kids to school…”

“That’s on me today,” he said quickly. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

With her blessing, he fed the kids breakfast and packed them up for school. Once he’d dropped them off, he headed back home still thinking about how bizarre it was that they’d been married ten fucking years. They were getting old! As he sang along to whatever song happened to be on the radio that morning, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, he wondered what it was that kept them so _in love_. Was it just meant to be?

He got home in no time and walked into the bedroom to find Natasha bent at the waist and digging through one of the bottom drawers of their dresser. “Now _that’s_ something I like walking in to,” he commented, leaning against the side of the doorway. “Wow.”

Natasha scoffed and stood up to peek over her shoulder at him. “Drink it in, soldier,” she teased. “And go on pretending that it’s the same as it used to be.”

Steve just smiled for a moment. God. If she thought she was even slightly less beautiful than she used to be, she was wrong. She was getting more and more lovely every day. And right then? It felt like he was a fucking kid all over again, eager as hell to just be with her forever no matter what. And eager for other things too.

Strutting on over, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her back into his chest while he bent down to kiss her shoulder. “If anything, you’re _more_ beautiful than you were when I met you,” he murmured, kissing up the side of her neck. “Besides, I’m definitely not the handsome guy I was back then.”

“Oh, please!” She laughed, turning around to slide her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. “You’re still gorgeous, Steve Rogers, don’t start.”

Steve laughed in return and let his hands wander down to her ass for a little squeeze. “Yeah? Well, let’s see if this gorgeous guy can still do what he used to, huh?” With that, he winked and lifted her up, up, up and over his shoulder, lightly slapping her ass as he carried her, squealing and laughing, into the bedroom.

That was only ten years. By the time they hit twenty, their baby boy was all grown up. At a strapping nineteen, he’d chosen to follow in his father’s footsteps and enlisted in the army. Natasha despised it, but she had to respect his choice or risk pushing him away. Still, she missed him so terribly the first time he went away that Steve insisted upon a leave of absence from work and stayed home with her just to make sure she was okay.

Meanwhile, Sarah had grown up to be the spitting image of her father. She was the ridiculous kind of beautiful, with long blonde curls and baby blue eyes that could still get her out of any kind of trouble with her father no matter how bad of a mood he was in. Now that she was entering high school and spending so much time with her friends, their house might as well have been an empty nest.

By the time they were celebrating thirty years, it _was_ empty. Molly had passed away a long time ago and now that they had no kids to fill up the empty spaces, Steve made the executive decision to adopt a cat and gift it to Natasha one day. She was all black and he’d purchased her a little red collar with a tinkling little bell. Natasha named her ‘Polnoch’, the Russian word for ‘midnight’, and they called her Polly for short.

_“Daddy…” Steve looked up to find Sarah coming towards him with tears in her eyes. He moved to stand and she stopped him, dropping into the seat beside him instead. “I’m so sorry it took so long. I tried to get a flight sooner, but--”_

_“It’s alright,” he answered quickly. “It’s fine. You’re here now, that’s all that matters.”_

When Steve turned sixty five, Natasha threw him a party even though she knew he was kind of ashamed of being so old. She was still a lot younger; only fifty eight and better every day. It was a good thing he was so in love with her, because surprise parties and a dozen ‘over-the-hill’ jokes kind of sucked. Still and all, he appreciated the effort and when he got up to make his little toast to thank everyone, all he could see was her.

“Thanks to everyone for coming out to celebrate this old man… I appreciate all the gifts and all the _jokes_ and just having you all here to enjoy the party. But I have to give the biggest thanks to my wife. Tasha, I’m so in love with you. I hope you know that your love is worth more to me than anything else in the world. Sometimes I really take a look at how far we’ve come: two kids, a grandbaby on the way…” He glanced over at James’ wife and smiled for a moment before looking back to Natasha. “And I almost can’t believe you ever let me into your life. So, thank you for loving me and tolerating me as I get older. It’s always gonna be us, baby. Always.”

_“Pop, she’s asking for you.”_

_Steve sniffed and lifted his head from Sarah’s shoulder. He knew he had to go in there, but it was harder every time. He’d tried to make peace with this over and over again and it still didn’t make any sense. It should have been him. It was always supposed to be him._

After sixty years of marriage, two children, three grandchildren, a handful of dogs and cats, two houses, and one apartment… Something went wrong. Steve had never questioned how long he’d lived. At ninety one, he was relatively healthy and strong, although life had slowed down considerably. It was the month before Natasha’s eighty fifth birthday that they knew something was wrong. Obviously they’d both aged over time; Steve was on meds for his blood pressure and wore cardigans nearly constantly because he was always cold, Natasha was on blood thinners for a-fib and had taken to walking with a cane when it was chilly outside.

But even with death silently looming over them, Steve had never considered the end. He still kissed Natasha every morning and every night, he still woke up with her beside him. Maybe he couldn’t make her breakfast in bed anymore, but he could kiss her hand when they fell asleep on the couch together and he could tell her he loved her all the time, even when he had to speak up so she could hear him better.

It all happened so fast. Steve watched her come into the room with her long hair in a braid and a cup of tea in hand. She’d stopped there in the living room and gotten this strange look in her eye-- and then she fell. She fell and he couldn’t catch her. Panicked and afraid, he’d called 911 and slowly made his way over to her to wait for help. She was so confused and slurring and she couldn’t say his name when he asked her to, she couldn’t squeeze his fingers… Steve knew what it was, but he couldn’t admit it even then. He couldn’t take this.

Steve had been shaking so hard when they took her that he’d had to ask a neighbor, a young woman who lived beside them with her two kids, to call his son and take him to the hospital. And there they had been, on and off for almost a week straight. It was almost cruel, he thought, that someone so vibrant, someone so _important_ might leave this world in such a mundane way. But there she was. And all they could do was make her comfortable.

He let James walk him into Natasha’s room and slowly took the seat beside her while she reached out for his hand. With their children and their grandchildren littered around the small room, Natasha smiled down at him and Steve’s heart very nearly broke.

Shaking his head, he leaned down and kissed her knuckles like that would make her stay a little longer. He begged in silence, bargained with everything he had, and didn’t bother hiding his face once he’d figured out that nothing like that was going to matter. This was happening.

Looking into her eyes, he knew that it was over. He knew she couldn’t fight anymore and he had to accept that. But she was scared. They’d talked about it one night, he could remember that. Natasha was afraid of dying, of what might wait for them or not wait for them on the other side. Now, as she took his hand and laced their frail fingers together, Steve knew what he had to do. He got up and with the help of their children, he got right into the hospital bed with her.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

Steve nodded and tried to hold her hand a little tighter. “I won’t.”

The idea that someone could die of heartbreak had always been foreign to Steve. How could it be possible when heartbreak itself was an immaterial concept? But when everyone said their goodbyes that evening and promised that they’d be back in the morning no matter what, Steve felt like nothing would be the same when the sun came up tomorrow.

Little did he know.

  
  
  


“It looks like he passed away from natural causes, Mr. Rogers.” The doctor put a hand on James’ shoulder and squeezed lightly, extending the kind of cold, professional comfort that came with times like these. “They passed within minutes of each other, I’d say.”

James nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “Thank you,” he sighed. “We’ll make the arrangements as soon as possible.”

The doctor left and James moved back into the waiting room to comfort the rest of his family; his wife, his kids, his sister. “This is what they would have wanted,” he reasoned. “We all know that. They wouldn’t have wanted to live a second without one another.”

Soulmates are a funny thing. Natasha would have wanted Steve to live every second of his life to the fullest even if that meant living without her and Steve would have wanted the same for her. But both would never want to keep going without their partner for the last sixty years and then some.

_“...and when one of them meets the other half, the actual half of himself, whether he be a lover of youth or a lover of another sort, the pair are lost in an amazement of love and friendship and intimacy and one will not be out of the other’s sight, as I may say, even for a moment…”_

__\--Plato, The Symposium_ _

 

 


End file.
